Letter from Vincent van Gogh to Theo van GoghThe Hague, early April 1882

Dear Theo,

I have sat down to write you several times, but I couldn't
bring myself to finish the letter. The reason was that I wanted
to write about several things which had made me think the
necessity of your becoming a painter so very evident. But what
I had written wasn't quite right, and I couldn't find words
strong enough.

Your objections are true, but on the other hand there are
many other things which counterbalance them. By thirty you
would have made such progress that people would have to
acknowledge you as a painter and value your work. And at thirty
you will still be young.

What you have learned at Goupil's, your knowledge of many
things, will simply enable you to overtake many who
“started early.” For those early beginners often
have a sterile period, remaining on the same level for years;
someone who begins energetically later on need not go through
such a period.

Painting is a profession in which one can earn a living just
as well as a blacksmith or a physician. At all events an artist
is the exact opposite of a man who lives on his income, and I
repeat, if one wants to make a comparison, there is more
similarity between an artist and either a blacksmith or a
physician.

I remember quite well, now that you write about it, that at
the time when you spoke of my becoming a painter, I thought it
very impractical and would not hear of it. What made me stop
doubting was reading a clear book on perspective, Cassange's
Guide to the ABC of Drawing; and a week later I drew the
interior of a kitchen with stove, chair, table and window - in
their places and on their legs - whereas before it had seemed
to me that getting depth and the right perspective into a
drawing was witchcraft or pure chance. If only you drew one
thing right, you would feel an irresistible longing to draw a
thousand other things. But one sheep has to cross the bridge to
get the others to follow.

If a painter seized you by the arm and said, Look, Theo, you
must draw that field like this: the lines of the furrows go
this way, for such and such reasons and no other; they are
brought into perspective this way. And that pollard willow
being so tall, the other one higher up is so
small, and you can measure the difference in size in this way.
Look, when you hammer that onto the paper, those lines will be
correct, and you have a solid foundation under your feet on
which to work.

Such a conversation, provided he can put his theory into
practice, would be much more effective in my case than many
talks on either abstract or financial matters. I will not
continue that train of thought much longer, but you are just on
the verge of someday getting an insight into this practice, and
if you happen to draw something correctly - in other words, if
you learn to see the perspective of things - then you will be
through with art dealing and will feel, like Correggio, I too
am a painter. At the same time you will see that you are in
your element, and then - then you will be younger and more
hopeful than ever before; then your second youth begins: it is
better than the first, for, thank God, the second one does not
pass away - does not pass away like the first. For my first
youth is gone, and yours will soon be gone too.

As to Cor's education or Mother's support, the money for
these two things will not be lacking, even if you become a
painter. And as to yourself, your food, drink, sleep, your
studio, your model…they are not far off; if the thought
of painting should be aroused in you, you would see that it can
be done.

But so that you won't suspect me of overlooking the
financial end, I should like to say - though with all respect
for your present position as a dealer - unless one has a real
handicraft and can make something with one's own hands, I doubt
the soundness of the position. For instance, I think Jaap
Maris's social position sounder and more independent than
Tersteeg's. I have great respect for thought and intelligence;
where these are wanting, one will be ruined in spite of one's
handicraft because one cannot make a firm stand and defend
one's own work, as is proved by Thijs Maris. But people who
possess thought and intelligence, and of course I count you
among them and should also like to count myself among them, are
the best fitted for handicraft.

To sum up. If you take up painting, you will succeed, and at
about your thirtieth year you will have a good position as a
painter - anyway, no worse than the one you have now. If you
begin to paint, you will certainly not be a mediocrity in the
bad sense of the word.

Now, I see a chance of making my money do if you can arrange
to send another 100 fr. about the middle of this month; it will
last me until the beginning of May. I have not been able to pay
Tersteeg out of the 100 fr. you just sent me: I have so many
expenses, and, for instance, I could no longer put off paying
the rent or buying a pair of trousers. If you send again about
the middle of April, I can return it to him then (and
will do so if you insist). But I would rather make a drawing
for it sometime. I must not do it this way - I must not pay
cash to dealers. My debt to you is different, we don't
know how things will go. If you remain an art dealer, you will
get drawings and pictures for it in time; if you become a
painter, I will pay you back the money with interest into the
bargain.

As to the money for Tersteeg, when I first arrived here, he
and Mauve were so kind and said I need not worry; but in less
than a month they suddenly changed and spoke quite differently,
thinking perhaps that I should give up. At first it hurt me,
and then later it left me rather cold, and I thought, I will
try not to mind.

Breitner is in the hospital; I visit him now and then to
bring him either books or drawing materials. C. M. has paid me
and given me a new order, but a very difficult one - six
special detailed views of the town. However, I will try to make
them, for if I understand it correctly, I shall get as much for
these six as for the first twelve. And later perhaps he will
still want some sketches of Amsterdam.

Blommers came to see me about the exhibition of wood
engravings. He looked at them for three hours and was angry at
the committee of Pulchri for saying something like,
“Those things one sees now and then in the South Holland
café.” If that's all they know about wood
engravings, they are indeed competent to judge them! However,
Pulchri had objections. But Blommers wants to have his way, and
has asked me to keep them ready for next Saturday. It is very
curious to hear some painters talk about what they call
“illustrators,” about Gavarni, for instance, or
Herkomer. Not knowing anything about the matter is what
makes up part of their so-called general information.
Much good may it do them. With a handshake

Yours sincerely, Vincent

My thanks for the package of splendid Ingres paper and for
the studies. Perhaps someday when people begin to say that I
can draw a little but not paint, I shall suddenly come out with
a picture at a moment when they least expect it. But I
certainly won't as long as it looks as though I were
obliged to, and as though I must not do something
else.

There are two ways of thinking about painting, how not to do
it and how to do it: how to do it - with much drawing
and little colour; how not to do it - with much colour
and little drawing.

At this time, Vincent was 29 year old

Source:Vincent van Gogh. Letter to Theo van Gogh. Written early April 1882 in The Hague. Translated by Mrs. Johanna van Gogh-Bonger, edited by Robert Harrison, number 184.URL: http://webexhibits.org/vangogh/letter/11/184.htm.